Fast Forward
by SvgeChick
Summary: A series of chronological oneshots following the BoothBrennan relationship from the initiation to whenever I decided to stop writing the oneshots. Ch 6 up!
1. All the Pharoah's Men

Hey, all. This is my first stab at Bones fan fiction. Basically, this is going to be a series of one-shots that follow a time line fast-forwarding through the Booth/Brennan relationship. As always, comments are greatly appreciated and although I'd like to put a down payment on David Boreanaz, I own nothing related to Bones.

**Chapter 1 - All the Pharaoh's Men**

Special Agent Seeley Booth stepped into the Medico-legal lab like a zombie into the twilight zone. For the first time he could remember, the lab lay in perfect stillness without a squint to be seen. He was about to head toward Brennan's office when a tittering of voices drifted down from the upstairs conference room. The deafening _pop!_ of a champagne bottle being opened punctuated his entrance.

"Wow, did they find Jimmy Hoffa?" He quipped at the beaming faces in front of him.

"Not yet, but on that day, I'll be celebrating with something stronger than champagne, I can tell you that right now." Hodgins lifted his glass for emphasis and took a small sip.

"The good doctor here has been selected to head the anthropological team excavating the newly discovered pyramid in Egypt," Angela said, throwing her arm around an ecstatic Temperance.

"Six months in Egypt surrounded by mummified royalty-- are you sure you don't need me to come along?" Zach looked at her hopefully.

Booth glanced between the four of them, his eyes finally settling on Brennan. "Six months? Well, that's great. Congratulations, Bones." She opened her mouth to thank him, but he interjected, eager to get away from the festivities. "I just stopped by to pick up the Mirando file and then I'll get out of your hair." He didn't wait for a response, but scampered off in the direction of Brennan's office.

Angela caught up with him just as he was about to walk through the door. "Now you listen to me, Seeley Booth…"

"Can we not do this? Please?" He interrupted, rifling through the stacks of files on Brennan's desk.

"Uh, no, we are so going to do this. The woman in that room is my best friend and I haven't seen her this happy in a very long time, Booth. Do not ruin this for her." She stood tall, arms crossed in front of her. Though he was standing a few feet from her, the slightest hint of grapefruit and ginger perfume filled the distance.

"I said I was happy for her," was his only response as he intensified his search for the missing file.

"Yeah, you know, I hear you say those words, but I gotta tell ya, sweetie, subtlety? Not your strong suit." Booth could feel her eyes burning into him as he continued sifting. "Do you love her?"

His hands froze over the new stack of files he had been about to lift out of his way. "I don't really see how that's relevant here."

"Booth." Angela's tone was stern, defiant even. He looked up at her for the first time, his dark chocolate eyes softening in affirmation.

"I thought as much," she said, quietly, taking a moment to study her hands. "A major manifesto of the Best Friend Oath of Confidence would be violated if I were to tell you the feeling is mutual, so instead, I'll tell you this-- she will come back. But you have to let her go first, Seeley."

"Let who go?" Brennan asked from the doorway, champagne glass in one hand, champagne bottle in the other.

"The anthropological ghost of Christmas future," Angela replied, smirking across the room at Booth as she left.

"I don't know what that means."

"It's probably better that way, Bones. Where is the file?" He turned back toward her desk, running a hand through his muddy brown hair in frustration. Setting the bottle down, she reached around him and lifted a worn brown folder from the top of one of the stacks.

"Thanks," was all he could bring himself to say as he brushed past Brennan toward the open door. "Say hello to Tutt for me."

"Booth, wait…"

Against his better judgment and the screaming voice of reason in his head, he turned back to face her.

"That's all I get? I'm leaving for six months and all you have is a salutation for a mummified pharaoh?" Her hands firmly gripped her hips as she stared at him.

"What do you want me to say? 'Thanks for leaving me high and dry for six months, but enjoy your career defining dig,'" he snapped, waving the folder around in front of him as he spoke. He watched as her face hardened and he immediately wanted to take those words back.

"Is that what you think? That I'm abandoning you? Because if that's what this is about, I fully intend to still consult on cases while I'm over there."

Booth looked at the ground in front of him, resisting the urge to just walk away. "It's not the same and you know it. I can't believe you'd be satisfied not having any hands on access to the cases."

Brennan crossed her arms and sighed heavily in frustration. "It's not my preference, but I've waited my whole career for an excavation like this to come along. This isn't just something I want; it's something I need, Booth." Her watery blue eyes pleaded with him as he prepared to show her no mercy.

Laughing bitterly, he took a step closer to her. "See, that's the part that gets me. What was this? Just some brain stretching exercise to bide the time until you go a better offer?"

This time she took a step closer. "You know better than that. I love working these cases with you."

Booth swallowed the lump forming in his throat before he looked back up at her. "Then why are you leaving, Bones?"

Brennan opened her mouth to answer him, but closed it again. He could see the angry tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. "Fine, I won't go." She didn't look at him as she tried to leave. He caught her arm as she moved past him.

"I'm sorry." He let go of her arm, sighing heavily in surrender. "Don't listen to me. Go. Go on your dig. I'm sure I'll still be here when you get back." He offered her a half smile and his heart lifted a little when she returned it.

"Do you mean that?" She asked, cocking an eyebrow at him.

"Yeah, yeah. Just go play with your bones." The corners of his mouth curled into a playful smirk as he waved the file at her and walked out of her office.

Booth dug into his pocket for his keys as he strode toward the black dot of his FBI vehicle. Just as he was about to reach for the door handle, he heard the sharp, tense tapping of heels behind him and he stopped. He smiled at his reflection in the dark tint of the windows.

"You forgot something," Brennan said, her voice breathy and winded. The taps moved closer and his heart skipped as he turned to find her inches from him. Something inside him forced his body forward until their noses were no more than a hair apart.

Brennan closed the remaining space in one final step, her lips crashing into his own. A shiver slowly weaved its way down his spine as he relaxed into her. His hands found her hips and his arms followed, snaking themselves around her waist, pulling her closer to him. His skin tingled as her fingers danced up his arms, finally tangling themselves in his hair. He kissed her until his lungs could no longer take it and reluctantly, he broke away from her lips.

"You'd think I would have remembered this."

She leaned back to look at him. "Booth?"

"Yeah?" He loosened his grip on her waist just enough to look back at her.

"Shut up." She kissed him again, this time with less urgency and walked away.

"I expect souvenirs when you get back, Bones," he called after her. She just smirked at him as the elevator doors slid shut.


	2. Surprisingly Not Spontaneous

Here's chapter 2 folks! I hope you enjoy it. Thanks to all of those who reviewed the last chapter. Keep them coming with this one-- I do so enjoy reviews :)

--As always, no matter how much I wish, Bones or anything associated with the show will never belong to me.--

**Chapter 2 - Surprisingly Not Spontaneous**

Tray of coffee balanced carefully in one hand and files tucked securely under his arm, Special Agent Seeley Booth carefully pulled open the door to the Jeffersonian Medico-Legal lab. To the untrained eye, he probably looked less than professional with his rumpled chestnut hair, jeans, white tee-shirt under an open blue and white striped button-down and keys dangling from between tightly clenched teeth.

"Hey, the caffeine fairy's here," Hodgins quipped, taking only a moment to glance up from a particularly gruesome pile of dirt.

Booth shot him one of his famous FBI Agent looks of death. "Helpf, pleath?" he mumbled around his leather keychain.

"Good morning, my lovelies. Oh, coffee! You are my hero." Booth turned toward the chipper sound of Angela's voice, gratefully accepting her help as she grabbed the keys out of his mouth and set the coffee tray on a nearby table.

"Thank you, Angela. Never occurred to you to, I don't know, come down and help the man that brought you coffee?" Zack and Hodgins just glanced up at him briefly and then continued on with their work.

Booth just shook his head at them and turned back to Angela. "The report come back yet from Bones?"

Angela nodded at him, taking a thorough swig of her coffee. "I put it on her desk."

Grabbing his double black coffee from the holder, he smiled at Angela and headed in the direction of Brennan's office. Dust bunnies aside, her office still remained in much the same way as she had left it. Booth made himself comfortable in her desk chair, taking a moment to savor the sweet vanilla orange scent around him. Three months she'd been in Egypt, and the whole room still smelled like her. He shook that thought away and reached for the file. As he slid the paper clip from the outside, a small slip of yellow paper fell next to his right foot.

_This was the best I could do. There really isn't much to work with here. Keep me informed. Oh, and Tut__ sends his best._

_Brennan_

"Smart ass." He stuck the note into his shirt pocket and prepared to delve into the life of one Janet Harris-- white, female, aged twenty two, location of death unknown, body found under the concrete floor of a frat house after a drunk attempt to create a mud pit in the basement.

An hour later, he was so deep in the world of Janet Harris that he nearly fell out of his chair when Angela came to check on him.

"Sorry! Didn't think you FBI guys were supposed to scare so easily." Angela sat herself down across from him on the other side of Brennan's desk. Booth rolled his eyes at her. She ignored it. "Anything yet?"

He shook his head, defeated. "How goes the simulation of the attack?" Booth tossed the file onto the desk, leaning back in the chair, hands behind his head.

She returned his defeated nod. "Unless our attacker is a contortionist with rubber arms, I've got nothing." They looked at each other for a few moments in silence until Angela broke it with a sigh. "I miss Brennan. No one else's brain works like hers." He snorted , opening his mouth to reply. His first syllable was swallowed by the tinny ring of his cell phone.

"Booth." A smile crept across his face as he recognized the frustrated, impatient voice on the other end. "Hey, Bones. How goes the excavating?"

A pause. "Booth, I--" Another pause. He immediately sat up right, his face heavy with concern.

"What's wrong?"

Brennan answered with an exasperated sigh. "I made a lame attempt at spontaneity and now I'm stuck here!" A riot of voices cluttered the line as she spoke and his brow furrowed in confusion.

"And where exactly is here, Bones?"

Another sigh, this one more tempered. "I'm in a holding cell at Ronald Reagan Washington National. I packed some tools and artifacts in my carry-on and apparently the permit I got in Egypt only allowed me to leave the country with them, not bring them into the States. They won't let me leave without clearance from the FBI and an agent coming to claim me." Frustration seeped through the phone and he could almost see the holes burned into the custom agents' heads from the death rays shooting out of her steely blue eyes. Despite his burning desire to do so, he made no smart aleck remark in response, and instead promised to be there in twenty minutes and hung up.

Angela looked at him quizzically.

"Bones is back," he replied with a toothy grin.

Mid-day traffic was not as heavy as usual through downtown and, as promised, he made it to the airport in little more that twenty minutes. Ten minutes after that, Booth was standing in front of her, biting his lip so hard to keep from laughing, he was sure he could taste blood.

"Not a word," Brennan said, picking up her satchel and back-pack. "Just get me out of here."

He offered her a friendly half-smile and raised his hands at her in compliance. Grabbing her luggage, Booth led the way out of the crowded customs area toward the parking garage where the FBI vehicle sat waiting for them.

Though it took all of his self-control not to talk to her, he knew he had to let Brennan make the first move. Thus, for the first five minutes of the ride back to the Jeffersonian, he was content with nothing more than the sound of the tires humming on the road below them.

"So much for your 'surprising woman' theory," she muttered, leaning her head against the tinted window.

Booth chuckled quietly. "Oh, Bones. You _are_ a surprising woman. I guess part of that surprise is that you're not so good with spontaneity." He smiled reassuringly at her and she finally looked over at him, offering an exhausted lop-sided smile in return.

A few more moments of comfortable silence passed between them until Booth finally got up the nerve to ask her.

"So, not to look the proverbial gift horse in the mouth or anything, but aren't you three months ahead of schedule?" He kept his eyes on the road in front of him, listening to her shift as she crossed her arms.

"Yeah, I've completed my part of the dig." Brennan stared away from him out at the steady stream of shops sliding by the window. Booth knew better.

"And the real answer?"

He glanced over at her. She was staring down with particular interest at her hands, now placed firmly in her lap. "I found that I missed having my head in the present. And it's all your fault." Her tone held only the tiniest glimmer of accusation. "I used to be perfectly content with spending all of my time buried in the past. Then you come along with these cases and this modern, compassionate optimism and now all I want to see is now." She took a deep breath, exhaling loudly.

Booth went back to keeping his eyes firmly planted on the road in front of him. "Is that really such a bad thing?"

He heard her sigh again. "No, just different. New, I guess."

As they approached the final stop light before their destination, he took the opportunity to really look her over. She met his gaze and he gave her the special smile/smirk hybrid he reserved only for moments like this, and only for moments with her. "How about something else that's new?"

The light turned green as she cocked a curious eyebrow at him. "What?"

He concentrated on turning into the parking lot before he answered. "How about dinner, you know, with me." Though he intended it as more of a statement, the end raised itself up into more of a hopeful question.

Brennan folded her arms casually across her chest. "Dinner with you is not new," she answered, defiantly.

Booth smirked to himself. "It is when it's a date and doesn't involve skeletons, Sid or Wong Foo's."

He slid the black SUV into a vacant spot and put it into park. He found himself almost holding his breath as he took the keys from the ignition. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw the corners of her mouth curl up and his heart nearly flew out of his chest.

"Okay" was all she said.

He beamed back at her. "Okay."


	3. Irritatingly Rational

Hey all! Here's the next update. I may have another chapter up later tonight if I get with the typing and the editing. The next two or three chapters are my favorites in this series so the updates may be more frequent since I tend to write faster when I'm excited about what I'm writing :) Enjoy and as always, reviews are much appreciated!

Disclaimer: Alas, I own nothing of the Bones franchise…

**Chapter 3 - Irritatingly Rational  
**

Special Agent Seeley Booth sat hunched over in an uncomfortable waiting room chair in the George Washington University Hospital emergency room. His head pounded to the rhythm of the muzak playing above him and the ammonia and stale air freshener smell around him made his stomach churn. The hustle and bustle of impatient families and rushing doctors sounded far away, as though he were listening through water.

"Agent Booth." He shot up out of the chair and walked toward the nurse who had called his name.

"How is she?" His eyes were wide with concern.

The nurse smiled at him in reassurance. "She's a little worse for the wear, but she's going to be fine. She asked for you."

He moved to go to her room. "I'll draw up the paper work for her release and you can take her home." He nodded a thank you at her and hurried off down to where Dr. Brennan was being treated.

His head spun as it replayed the nights events ad nauseum in his head. He could see Brennan shackled to the cold brick basement wall, trails of blood dripping down her face and neck, her clothes ripped and dirty. He tried to shake them away as he reached his destination.

The room he walked into was less than private and most definitely less than empty. Considering they were at the height of tourist season in Washington D. C., Booth wasn't overly shocked. Brennan sat on the edge of a made up hospital bed, slightly hunched over, one hand protecting her tender ribs, the other poised to swat away the incessant hands of the older nurse bandaging a cut on her neck. His stomach did a flip flop as she realized he was there and her face immediate lit up. She tried to smile at him, but flinched as it started to stretch the twelve new stitches on her right cheek and the eight across her chin.

"Easy there, Bones." Brennan's look of joy immediately blinked into a look of annoyed frustration.

"I'm fine, Booth." A cringe punctuated the end of her sentence as the over-zealous nurse applied a few more dabs of antiseptic before securing the bandage. "Just get me out of here. Please?"

Before he could open his mouth to reply, the nurse he had spoken to in the waiting room swept in. The name tag on her Snoopy-covered scrubs said Lilah. "A few signatures, Dr. Brennan, and you can go home."

Forty minutes later, Booth had one arm around a limping Brennan and one hand turning the key to get into her apartment. He helped her into her bedroom and pulled a particularly comfortable looking pajama set out of her drawer. She accepted them silently and began to attempt the few feet to her bathroom, sharp, pained breaths punctuating each step.

"Need any help?" She waved a hand at him without turning around that meant she thought she could do it by herself. Booth pulled the comforter back for her and took a seat at the end of the bed. He sat in impatient silence as a random sampling of moans and gasps made their way through the slightly ajar door every few seconds.

Finally, an irritated, tear edged plea for help made its way through as well. "I can't get my shirt off." Brennan didn't look at him as he gently started to lift her shirt, first on her uninjured side, and then the other, all without a word.

Reversing the process to put on her brown cotton tank top, Booth pulled the last bit of fabric down over her back and stepped back. "You good?"

She nodded and began her attempt back into the bedroom. With much effort, she finally lowered herself into her bed. He could see her eyes begin to drift shut as she lay her head on the pillow. "I'm hungry."

Booth let out a few amused chuckles as he pulled the covers up over her and sat down on the bed beside her. "Wong foo's?" She nodded at him, eyes closed. "You get a couple of hours of sleep and I'll return with food."

"Mmm" was her answer and he brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes, tucking it behind her ears before shutting out her lamp and leaving.

Two hours later, he quietly let himself back into her apartment, a brimming box from Wong Foo's in tow. As he set the keys on the counter, he saw her lamp flicker back on and mentally cursed himself for waking her up. She tried her best to smile at him as he walked in, laboriously pushing herself up into a sitting position.

"Sorry."

"I never really fell asleep." He offered her a white food container and a Diet Coke, which she gratefully accepted.

"From Sid, with love. He called it his 'Battered & Bruised' combo," he said with a snort, taking a hefty bite of an egg roll.

"Tactful," she replied, popping a healthy wad of noodles into her mouth. Sitting them down on the end table, she looked back up at him expectantly. "Say whatever it is you're not saying."

He leaned heavily against the dark wood door frame and ran a slightly bruised hand through his hair. "You really want to do this now?" Brennan raised her eyebrows at him and shrugged. He inhaled deeply.

"You can't do this anymore." His serious dark eyes met her watery light pools. She responded with another shrug.

"Do what anymore?"

He stood up straighter, crossing his arms across his chest. "No more field work."

She sniffed loudly at him, pushing herself back against her hand-carved mahogany head board. "I'm fine. If Cullen would give me a gun, I wouldn't have to get so physical." She reached for the half filled glass of water on the night table next to her as he moved closer to the bed.

"Stop it. This isn't about whether or not you can defend yourself, this is about your life. Do you realize that you could be dead right now? If I hadn't gotten there when I did--" She interrupted.

"What? If you hadn't swooped in to save me? I don't need a bodyguard, Booth." She popped a couple of her pain pills and readjusted her position again.

His hands moved down to his hips and his eyes bore into her. "Oh, so that's what I am now? Well, fine. Maybe you should just go back to your Iron Age warriors and Egyptian Pharaohs."

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

He sighed heavily, running a hand through his chestnut locks. "It means that maybe we should just stick to what we're good at and leave it at that." He paused, looking down at her cherry wood floor. "Maybe we shouldn't be partners anymore."

She scoffed at him. "Excuse me?"

He looked back up at her, his eyes wide and pleading. "I trust you with a lot of things, Temperance, my life being one of them-- but can I trust you with yours?"

"So, what, you think I'm on some sort of suicide mission?" She pushed herself up straighter, squinting at him in the dimly lit room. "I know the risks, Booth. I know what's at stake."

Booth let out an exasperated sigh. "Do you really? Because I gave you an order tonight to wait for back-up, an order you completely disregarded."

An incredulous look splashed across her face, red creeping around the bruises on her cheeks. "Orders, Booth? Partners don't give each other orders."

"No, they trust each other. They work together." Their eyes locked and they stared at each other in tense silence until Booth forced himself to look away. "Maybe this has just run its course."

"Well, if that's the way you feel then I think, in the interest of full disclosure, you should know that I love you." It came out as a statement, solid and unwavering.

He blinked at her. "You what?"

Brennan shrugged. "I love you. I just think if this is the decision you're going to make, you should have all of the facts first."

Another exasperated sigh. "Dammit, Bones."

"And I'm not quitting field work." She gazed across the room at him in utter defiance.

"Bones…" He took another step closer to her, his voice full of warning.

She held up a finger at him. "How about tonight we be 'widely emotional' and tomorrow we be rational?"

He studied her for a moment and then grinned down at her. "Okay." He clapped his hands together. "So, couch then?"

She returned his grin as best she could. "Bed."


	4. Butterflies and Hand Grenades

Greetings one and all! I come bearing yet another chapter. I'm having so much fun writing this, so it's really great to get all the reviews saying how much you guys are enjoying it. I greatly appreciate them. Keep the reviews coming and I'll keep the chapters coming ;)

Disclaimer: Really, really not mine - nope, not even a little bit…

**Chapter 4 - Butterflies and Hand Grenades**

Special Agent Seeley Booth sat on one of the many couches around the central lab at the Jeffersonian, half study his most recent case file, half studying Brennan. More than anything, he wanted the day to fast-forward to dinner. He glanced down at his watch-- 11:55 am. In less than five minutes, his grand scheme would be well on its way to being real. As the minutes ticked by, his glances between Brennan and the file grew closer together, until finally his eyes stayed fixed on her.

At exactly noon, he grabbed his jacket and made his way up the steps into the lab where Dr. Brennan and the other squints were still hard at work.

"I'm off to lunch. I'll be back in an hour," he said, giving Brennan a quick peck on the lips. She blinked back at him.

"Without me?" Her brow furrowed into an almost incredulous look.

Booth gave her a coy smile. "Sorry, Bones. I already have a lunch date."

She squinted down at him with an oh-really look. "And who would that be?"

"That would be me." Angela walked up next to him, jacket in tow. At this, Hodgins sat up from where he was hunched over a gravel sample.

"I knew it was just a matter of time before some sexy law enforcement type stole you away from me," Hodgins said, an ironic smile on his face. Angela winked at him.

Booth scrunched his face up at him. "Did you just call me sexy?"

Brennan ignored them, placing her hands on her hips in her signature stubborn stance. "But I'm your girlfriend. I'm supposed to have a long-standing lunch invitation."

He flashed her his best charm smile. "Well, Angela is a girl and she's my friend, so by your logic she has just as much right to have lunch with me as you do." Brennan gawked at him as he just held his hands up to her and walked away, with Angela following in his wake.

The custom jewelry store he had ordered the ring from was right in the heart of D. C. and only a ten minute drive from the Jeffersonian. A breeze of vanilla and cinnamon blew past them from the bakery next door, mingling with the bitter smell of exhaust from the busy street. Twinkle lights blinked at them from around the front window of "Jule's Jewels" as the brass door bell jingled at their arrival.

A small, mousy woman in her mid-thirties immediately appeared from a backroom somewhere, studying them through silver-rimmed frames. "Can I help you?"

Angela glanced over at Booth, who smiled politely at the woman. "Yes, please. I'm here to pick up a special order. Should be under 'Booth'."

The woman's face brighten with recognition. "Oh, yes. I just put that one in the vault this morning. Just a moment." Again she disappeared into the backroom, shutting the wooden door with a loud _snap!_

Booth grinned over at Angela. "She's going to love this ring. You're going to be so proud of me." She rolled her eyes at him .

"Let's just see what the jewel lady has first, shall we?" Just then, the woman return, a small box in her hand. The box itself was quite a site-- deep purple stained wood, with hand carved ridges on the top and bottom, both covered in gold leafing. "Holy box, Batman," she said, gaping at the tiny object as the lady set it on the glass counter in front of them.

Booth chuckled. "I figured, I'm only going to get to do this once, I might as well go all out."

Angela lifted the box, opening it to reveal one of the most unique engagement rings she had ever seen. On top of a medium platinum band sat a tiny butterfly with diamond clusters for wings and three small sapphires for a body. "Oh, Seeley, she's going to flip!" Angela looked back up at him in awe.

He took the box from her, giving the finished ring a once over. "Yeah?" She gave him an affectionate arm pat of approval.

"Yeah. You did good, sweetie."

Seven hours later, he stood outside Brennan's door, dressed in a pressed pair of jeans and a light blue button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and waves of nervousness coursing through his veins. He knocked three times and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he heard the locked click on the other side of the door.

Brennan looked less than ready to be going anywhere in grey lounge pants, a long sleeve white shirt and slippers, her hair pulled back in a casual pony tail. She looked less than excited to see Booth standing in front of her.

"What are you doing here, Booth?"

He looked down at his watch and then back at her. "Um, dinner? Come on, Bones, get dressed." He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, anxious to get her to Wong Foo's.

She stood up straight, crossing her arms across her chest. "Are you sure I'm invited this time? I mean, I wouldn't want to impose."

Booth rolled his eyes, reaching for her arm. She shrugged away from him. "Don't be ridiculous, of course you're invited. "

"And what's with all of the whispering and the sneaking around? I saw you and Hodgins laughing about something this afternoon. Laughing, Booth!"

"Laughing? Bones…" She continued on her rant, her voice getting more shrill.

"And what was so important that you had to take Angela to lunch without me? I had a standing invitation!" Booth took a step toward her, trying his best to calm her manically waving hands.

"You do have a standing--"

"And don't think I didn't see that little brown bag under the back seat. I know--" He put his fingers over her lips, his eyes wide and panicked.

"Wait, wait, you don't know." Brennan let out a flustered sigh, pulling his hand away from her mouth.

"So tell me!" Booth rolled his eyes at her, thrusting his hand into his right jacket pocket and pulling out the box.

"It was for this, okay?" Brennan looked at the box like it was a grenade with the pin still in it. Finally, she took the box turning it around several times before cautiously lifting the lid. A slightly confused look spread across her face.

"This is a ring." He snorted at her, running a hand through his muddy locks.

"Observant, Bones." Their eyes locked for a moment. Booth watched the lightening bolt strike and recognition flash across her softly lit features.

"Wait, you were going to ask me to marry you?" Her eyes softened as she looked back at him and he sighed.

"Yeah," he answered, quietly, his eyes fixed on her as the gears turned in her head.

"Okay," she said, looking from the ring back up to him. He scoffed at her.

"Okay? That's not romantic." She threw her arms up at him.

"Why does it have to be romantic?" She placed her hand softly on the inside of his forearm, pulling him toward her. "Ask me."

He pulled his arm away. "No, Bones. Moment's gone."

She studied him for a moment and then cocked a playful eyebrow at him. It made his heart skip. "Would it help if I promise to say yes?"

He looked back at her, sheer delight creeping slowly from his eyes to his mouth as it curled into a smile. "It might."

"Okay, so ask me already." She put her hands softly on her hips and stared back at him expectantly.

He took the ring box back from her and got down on one knee, taking another deep breath. "Marry me?" His eyes were as wide as they could go, chocolate puddles looking up at her with love and hope.

She hesitated. "Well…"

"Bones…" His voice was full of warning as he stood back up. She giggled, gleefully.

"Yes." He grinned at her. "Of course I'll marry you."

"Yeah?" She pulled the ring out of the box and slowly slid it onto her left ring finger. He pulled her closer until their noses touched. She grinned back.

"Yeah."


	5. Puppies and Mini Squints

Hey all! Sorry it's taken me so long to update. I've been busy settling back in at school and the like. But, in any event, here's the new cahpter. Please read and review, as they are much appreciated and encourage further writings :)

**Puppies and Mini-squints**

Special Agent Seeley Booth blinked himself awake, staring at the swirls of light and blue above him. His stiff knees and elbows protested as he tried stretching them out. His knee connected with something soft.

"Ow!" was the annoyed response from the other end of Brennan's office couch. Angela sat up, staring at him through dark, bleary eyes. "Sleep. Seeley. Sleep is the key here."

He cocked an amused eyebrow at her and slid an arm behind his head. "Hey, I was here first. I'm the one with my legs hanging off the edge, letting you have all the legroom. Show a little appreciation." He smirked at her and she glared back at him for a few moments before using her bare foot to push him completely off the couch.

He hit hard, smacking his head on the edge of Temperance's glass coffee table. "Son of a--"

"What are you two doing in my office?" Brennan interrupted, gliding in with a stack of files held steady in one arm and the other wielding a black ballpoint pen.

Booth cradled the back of his head in his hand as Angela bent down apologetically to help him back up. "Gee, Bones, don't worry about me. I'm only slightly concussed."

Setting the stack neatly on her desk, she turned to face them. "I'm not worried about you because you're not supposed to be in here." She took a few steps closer and tossed a large cream envelope at him and turned her head toward Angela. "Zach has enough of the skull reconstructed for you to get me face. And since when do you get mail at _my_ office?" Brennan turned back toward Booth suddenly causing both Angela and him to flinch slightly.

Booth shrugged at her and pulled the contents of the envelope out. "What? I work here, too. And besides, it may have my name on it, but this is for both of us."

Angela slid closer to where he was on the couch. "Ooh, more wedding stuff?" Brennan rolled her eyes at them as Booth grinned and held up a brochure with a picture of a very green, very secluded looking resort on the cover.

Angela took the brochure from him and looked at Brennan in disgust. "You are so not normal. You and I are supposed to be planning this wedding. Not me and your fiancé, the couch hog." Booth narrowed his eyes at her and plucked the brochure back out of her hand.

Brennan plopped herself into her desk chair, squinting at her computer screen in concentration. "I just don't see the point. I could get married in a bowling alley and the night would still hold the same meaning for me."

"Um…I love you, too…" Booth scrunched his forehead up in annoyance. Brennan glanced over at him and shook her in amusement.

"No, I didn't mean it like that. I just meant that as long as you and I end up married at the end of the night, what difference doesn't it make where or how it happens?" They locked eyes for a moment and he half smiled at her.

"It's not Hallmark, but I'll take it."

"So does that mean I can pick the dresses and the colors?" Angela asked nonchalantly, taking the brochure back from Booth.

Brennan snorted. "Nice try. That's my one stipulation. I choose my dress, the colors, and I have final say on the honeymoon destination."

Booth swiped the brochure back from Angela again and sprang up off the couch. "Speaking of honeymoons. Ladies and, well, me, feast your eyes on the best Grecian vacation novel royalties can buy. I present to you, the most romantic Moroccan hotel in the Mykonos islands."

Angela blinked at him. "Why are you staying at a Moroccan hotel on a Greek island?"

"Compromise, my dear Watson. She said Morocco, I said Greece. Behold a Moroccan-themed hotel in Greece." Booth smiled at her proudly.

Angela snorted. "You two were so made for each other. Where are my shoes?"

Brennan made one last click on her computer and stood up. "They're next to the door. Why are we made for each other?"

Angela chuckled. "Because I can just see you two arguing over what to name your first born and compromising with some horrible hyphenate like Sadie-Jane or Charlie-Michael."

Booth frowned slightly, pretending to be focused on the travel brochures. "Bones doesn't want kids. So I don't think we'll have to worry about that."

Angela opened her mouth in protest, but Hodgins beat her to it. "How can you not like kids?"

Brennan rolled her eyes again. "What is it with you people. My not wanting children has no bearing on whether or not I actually like children-- which by the way, I do."

Angela stood up, crossing her arms matter-of-factly. "I'm an only child, Brennan. Your kids are the only nieces and nephews I'll ever have. I need a child to spoil."

Temperance placed both hands on her hips, an incredulous look on her face. "So have one of your own and leave me out of it."

Booth tossed the brochures onto the coffee table and placed an arm around Brennan's shoulders. "Aw, come on, Bones. You don't have any desire to have a little mini-squint that you can mold in your image? We could have the only five year old to ever graduate magna cum laude from Harvard."

Brennan sighed in exasperation, wrenching herself away from Booth's arm. "Is your marrying me contingent upon my willingness to have children with you?" Her deep, glassy pools glared up at him.

"Of course not, but---"

"Ok, then. Let's just let it go." She brushed past him, walking toward where Hodgins and Angela stood in awkward silence. "Is that the entomology report?"

Hodgins shook himself back into work mode, his eyes widening for a moment. "Yeah, given the species of maggots in the lungs and the larvae found in the nasal cavity, I have the origin of the original burial site narrowed to about a thirty mile radius."

"I'll get this to the FBI crime lab and see if they can narrow down further." Booth reached out for the file, carefully avoiding Brennan's gaze as he moved toward the door

Brennan hurried after him. "Wait, Booth. You're mad."

Booth looked back at her, running a hand through his hair. "No, I'm fine. We should get on this. Call me when Angela has a face for me."

Ten hours later, Booth sat in his disheveled, box ridden apartment at his kitchen table, bricked in by a tower of missing person's reports and half-empty Wong Foo's containers. His orange and yellow tie hung loosely down his crumpled white shirt, which fell down over his belted suit pants in a sea of wrinkles.

A sharp rap at the door broke his concentration and he coaxed his exhausted limbs out of the chair to answer it.

He opened the door to reveal a slightly tousled, apologetic Temperance Brennan staring back at him.

She looked down at the ground for a moment and then looked back up at him with watery eyes. "So after you left this morning, I tried to concentrate on identifying the markings on the femurs, but…" She crossed her arms gently across her chest and inhaled deeply. "So I thought about it and I think I have a solution to our problem."

Booth furrowed his brow and shrugged at her. "What prob—"

She held up her fingers to his lips and continued. "What if I were to say I might be willing to have _one_ kid with you?"

Booth bit the inside of his lip to keep from smiling, keeping his face expressionless. "I would say I might be willing to accept, on one condition."

Brennan looked momentarily taken aback, but cocked a curious eyebrow at him.

"If we're only going to have one kid, I want a dog, too." Booth leaned against the door jam and cocked an expectant eyebrow at her. She frowned.

"A dog?"

"A dog."

She bit her lip for a moment before conceding. "Fine, but that you have to raise _that _on your own."

Booth grinned, pulling her into his arms. "Oh, I think you'll change your mind."

Brennan wrapped her arms around his neck and looked up at him. "I don't do that."

Booth smirked at her knowingly and leaned his forehead against hers.

"I think you just did."


	6. Gone to the Dogs

Hey, guys! Sorry it's been so long since my last update. Enjoy!

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**Gone to the Dogs**

Special Agent Seeley Booth pulled into the driveway of a two story brownstone with a perfectly manicured lawn and a bright blue mailbox. Dr. Temperance Brennan practically leapt out of the car as he put in park.

"Come on, Booth!" She grinned at him and he popped the trunk to get their bags out. He barely set hers on the pavement before she started lugging it up the brick walk to the blue front door.

Booth grabbed his own bag and hurried after her. "Wait! Don't go in yet."

She looked back at him, squinting in the fading light. "Why?"

He grinned at her. "Because, this is the first time we are going to enter this house as husband and wife."

She cocked an eyebrow at him and crossed her arms in impatience. "And?"

"And," he said, his grin falling into a playful smirk, "you are going to let me carry you over the threshold."

"No, you're not," she scoffed, trying to push passed him.

"Yes, you are." He grabbed her arm and stepped in front of her.

She threw her arms up at him. "Why? Where did you see that we must participate in this cheesy and inane social ritual?"

He shrugged. "I see it in the movies all the time."

"Oh, really," she mused, "And what movies are these?"

He shifted uncomfortably. "I don't know, Bones, _Nine Months, Fools Rush In, Just Married_ – humor me."

She shook her head. "No. And when are you watching all of these romantic comedies?"

He pulled her to him, until their faces were millimeters apart. "Please," he said, kissing her softly, "just let me win, just this once."

She relented, rolling her eyes and spreading out her arms in mock effort.

"Yes!" Booth rubbed his hands together, then unlocked the door and pushed it open.

As he lifted her up into his arms she warned, "If you tell Angela I let you do this, you will never win again."

He laughed. "Deal."

He carried her into the front hall, freshly painted the color of pale sunshine. Before he set her down, he kissed her hard on the mouth. "Welcome home."

She grinned at him as he went back out to bring in their bags off the porch. He set them inside and just as he shut the door, she walked up beside him, lacing her arm through his.

She whispered, "You know, I kind of like being carried." She kissed his neck and he turned to look at her, grinning wildly.

"Oh, really?" He said, kissing her forehead and slowly working his way down to her lips. "Want a lift to the bedroom?" He muttered between kisses.

She giggled and he turned, motioning for her to hop on his back. Just as they hit the first landing, her cell phone rang.

"Ignore it," he said, moving to take the next step.

She slid off his back. "It's probably Angela," she said, pulling her phone out of her pocket. "Brennan."

Booth sighed and stared at her impatiently as she exchanged pleasantries with her best friend.

"Oh, good, I'm so glad it's here…No, I'll come pick it up…Okay, I'll be there in a few minutes." She hung up and looked up at Booth apologetically.

"I need to go pick something up," she said, bouncing back down the stairs.

He made a throaty noise of indignation. "You're leaving. Now?"

"I swear I'll be right back," she called, running out to her car.

Booth shook his head in disbelief and went back down into the foyer to schlep the bags upstairs to their bedroom.

An hour and a half later, long after dark had fallen over the yard, he grabbed his keys and pulled his FBI vehicle out of the garage and headed to his office. If she was going to leave, he was not spending his first night at that house alone.

Less than an hour later, he heard a shy knock at the door, followed by familiar footsteps entering his office.

"Hey," Brennan said, offering him half a smile, "I went to the house and you were gone."

"Obviously," he snorted, not looking away from his computer.

"What's going on, Booth?"

He looked over at her. Her brow furrowed in genuine confusion and she moved closer to his desk.

"I just didn't feel like spending the first night in _our_ new house, alone." He picked up a file and moved to put in on the side table. "I figured you went to the lab, so I came here."

"But, Booth, I…"

He raised a hand to stop her. "You know what, Temperance, I just thought, our first night back from our honeymoon and all, you'd want to spend it with me. But if you need to work, go, I'll see you at home."

She opened her mouth to answer him, but then changed her mind. "Okay" was all she said and then she turned and walked back out of the office.

It didn't take long after she left for him to feel the silence closing in on him. He gave up. As he pulled into the driveway at quarter after nine, he saw the light on in the kitchen.

"Bones?" He called, throwing his jacket on the banister. A quiet rustling noise came from the kitchen beyond the hallway in front of him. His instincts kicked in and he pulled his gun from its holster. He burst into the kitchen to find a puppy staring up at him from its cage on the kitchen counter.

"Oh no."

Being sure to take the tiny puppy with him, he got back in his car and drove the fifteen minutes to the lab on the deserted streets of Washington D. C.

With the puppy napping happily in his arms, he stormed into her office. "What is this?"

She glanced at him with a dismissive shrug. "It's a dog, Booth. I believe they call that particular breed a Puggle."

He scrunched his nose at her. "A Puggle?"

She shrugged again. "I don't know, that guy from Brokeback Mountain has one. Jake somebody." He raised his eyebrows at her. "Anyway, I thought he was sweet."

"When did you see Brokeback Mountain?" He asked as she sat down behind her desk.

Fixated on her computer screen, she answered, "I saw it with Angela."

The puppy squirmed in his arms. "Is this a bribe? Because this feels a little like a bribe."

She rolled her eyes at him. "No, in civilized societies it's called a gift. The breeder dropped him off at Angela's while we were gone and that phone call you got so huffy about? That was her calling to find out when I was coming to get him."

Booth looked down at the puppy and then back at Brennan. "Oh."

"Yeah, 'oh'," she chided, sliding her chair back with more effort than was necessary.

"I'm sorry?" He gave her his goofiest smile and lifted the puppy up to get a better look at him. "He's cute. Does he have a name?"

She put her hands on her hips and glared at him. "You accuse me of abandoning you and now you want to play nice?" She shook her head. "You're on your own tonight."

He stuck his bottom lip out at her and brought the puppy up next to his face. "Aw, come on, Bones. Forgive your boys."

She raised her eyebrows at him. "My boys?"

He grinned. "Yeah, me and… he needs a name. How about Jack?"

She grimaced. "Nasty."

She walked up next to him and looked into the puppy's chocolate brown eyes. "I think he's a Casey."

"Casey?"

Brennan lifted the puppy out of Booth's arms and he snuggled himself into the nook of her arm. "Yeah, Casey."

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Reviews are most appreciated! Props to anyone who gets the Brokeback Mountain joke... 


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